


spin drift

by orca_mandaeru



Series: seungyul mafia au [2]
Category: X1 (Korea Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Gang World, Codependency, Dom/sub, Face-Fucking, Gunplay, M/M, Public Humiliation, Snowballing, Unhealthy Relationships
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-16
Updated: 2019-10-16
Packaged: 2020-12-17 08:20:19
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,845
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21051245
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orca_mandaeru/pseuds/orca_mandaeru
Summary: “He’s beautiful,” a soft voice rings out. Sounds like Seungwoo, one of Seungyoun’s oldest colleagues and friends. Hangyul imagines him behind his closed eyelids, tall and broad with gentle hands and iron resilience.Seungyoun smirks. "You can come over and play with him if you want, you know.”





	spin drift

**Author's Note:**

> not much gunplay sorry :(( but i hope you still like it!!

Hangyul has simple needs. He’s been through a lot to get to this point, and it might seem odd, but right now is the most content he’s been as long as he can remember. All he needs is Seungyoun safe and beside him, and something he’s been ordered to do. 

Right now, he’s standing at his usual place at Seungyoun’s shoulder, hands clasped behind his back and looking out over the meeting table. It’s not strictly necessary for him to be too alert right now, seeing as everyone in this room has been tried and trusted for years. But it always pays off to be prepared, he’s learned that before.

He doesn’t need to pay attention to their words, though, thoughts settled and calm by the casual hand Seungyoun has resting on the back of his thigh. He starts to listen in, though, after Seungyoun points at him, smiling wide and genuine in the way he only does with the people in this room. 

Kim Wooseok speaks up, evidently continuing on from their conversation. “He must not be just a guard, right? I’ve never seen someone act as loyal.”

Seungyoun’s smile softens slightly, and Hangyul tries not to let his ears turn red. Seungyoun tugs at hangyul’s leg, yanking him off-balance until he yields and lets himself fall into Seungyoun’s lap. The humiliation is definitely showing on his face by now, but he’s not bothered at all as long as Seungyoun is near. “Oh, he’s more than loyal,” he comments casually, and with a smooth movement there’s familiar cold metal pressing against Hangyul’s temple. 

He hears a surprised gasp against the table, but he just lets his eyes flutter closed, breathing in the beautiful scent combination of gunmetal and Seungyoun’s expensive cologne. Rivals have tried to pull them down before, have bribed Hangyul with skyrocketing sums of money as if that would work. None of them realize the way Hangyul’s life is Seungyoun’s to do with what he wants. 

“Don’t worry, he loves it,” Seungyoun murmurs, dragging the end of the barrel against Hangyul’s cheek. He swallows, shifting slightly. He can’t hide his reactions when Seungyoun shows off his control over him like this, especially with the captive audience watching. The tip of the gun is dragged down his body, all the way until it sneaks under his shirt and presses against his heated skin. 

Hangyul whines quietly, squeezing his eyes tighter so he won’t have to see all the others watching him get desperate so easily. Seungyoun laughs softly, his other hand ghosting down over Hangyul’s clothed thighs. A blanket of quiet has settled over the meeting room, thick with awe and lust. 

Like this, he feels precious, like something worthy of being put on display and admired. He subconsciously shifts up into the touch, reveling in both the cool metal and warm skin. 

“He’s beautiful,” a soft voice rings out. Sounds like Seungwoo, one of Seungyoun’s oldest colleagues and friends. Hangyul imagines him behind his closed eyelids, tall and broad with gentle hands and iron resilience. 

“Hm, that’s certainly true. You can come over and play with him if you want, you know.”

Hangyul stills as much as he can, terribly aware of his chest rising up and down with every breath, the idle swirls of metal against his stomach. This has never happened before, but he’s not opposed at all. Seungyoun is more than a little possessive, but Seungwoo is probably close enough to them for this. 

The whole meeting room is silent. Hangyul’s eyes are closed but he can still feel the tension hanging heavy in the air. “We’re just gonna… go.” That’s probably the sound of Yohan and Wooseok leaving, the door closing quietly behind them. Hangyul wouldn’t mind them staying, but he knows they have their own thing to deal with. 

Anticipation skittering across his skin, he finally opens his eyes to Seungyoun’s warm gaze on him. He swallows and turns his head, eyes widening as he sees Seungwoo leaning over the meeting table, staring hungrily at him. 

Before he knows it Seungyoun is handling him again, drawing the pistol away and pushing him stomach-first across the edge of the table. Any instinct to push back from being shoved around is assuaged by the knowledge that this is Seungyoun, who his world revolves around. In regular day-to-day life, they’re casual as any two friends, conversation passing easily and jokingly between them. But he really loves times like this, where he has to do nothing but stay quiet and obedient for his betters. 

Seungyoun’s dexterous hands arrange him until he’s slung over one corner of the table, legs hanging off one end and head at another. “Seungwoo, you’ve been such an incredible help lately, our profits are skyrocketing. You deserve a little reward, don’t you think?” His fingers trail down the line of Hangyul’s clothed spine, pressing him further into the table. “His mouth is amazing.”

The sound of a chair scraping against the floor, the dark fabric covering Seungwoo’s midsection appearing in front of his eyes. Hangyul tries to crane his neck up to meet his eyes, but he can’t, grumbling under his breath. Seungwoo raises a hand and cups his cheek, thumbing softly over his cheekbones. “So obedient,” he murmurs, looking over Hangyul’s body to Seungyoun. “He’s really everything people like you and me could ask for, huh?” 

They’re talking about him like he’s not there, and combined with the praise it’s a heady cocktail of feeling seeping through his prone body. “And he’s  _ mine _ ,” Seungyoun says, tone still even and casual, gripping hard at the backs of Hangyul’s thighs. He pants against the hardwood table, trying to take control of his floating mind again. 

Seungwoo hums and presses a thumb against hangyul’s plush bottom lip. “Never thought you were one to get possessive, Seungyounie. I can sure understand it, though.” He slides two long fingers into his mouth, petting over his slick tongue. Hangyul makes a quiet noise in the back of his throat, automatically sucking around them. 

Seungwoo curses under his breath and draws his fingers back out, fumbling with his dress pants zipper with the other hand. Hangyul stares avidly, eager to show just how good he can be. Seungyoun is barely touching him, just grounding hands against his thighs, but he’s not too bothered. He knows that later, when it’s just the two of them, seungyoun will want to re-stake his claim over him and wring him out until hangyul has nothing left to give, just how he likes it. 

Seungwoo tugs his hard cock out of his suit pants, scooting forward. Hangyul tries his best to look up at him again, panting helplessly, a little trail of drool dripping from his puffy lips. Seungwoo’s long, slim fingers come up again, pressing down onto hangyul’s bottom lip to open his jaw wider. He whines in the back of his throat, sticking his tongue out to seem as inviting as possible. 

Seungwoo huffs incredulously, pushing forward and softly smacking the head of his cock over Hangyul’s exposed tongue. He just stays there for a second, thumbing over the line of Hangyul’s jaw, long enough that he starts to squirm. Before he can get too antsy, his mouth is stuffed with cock, the surprise making him splutter for breath. 

Seungwoo coos softly, sliding his hands around to the back of Hangyul’s neck and running his fingers through the soft hair there for a second before gripping tighter and pulling him forward. Hangyul splutters and tries not to choke, tongue working against the warm skin in his mouth. “He’s so good,” Seungwoo comments breathily, his soft tone contrasting with the iron grip he has holding Hangyul’s head in place. 

“He is, such a pretty little guard dog for me,” Seungyoun murmurs, gently sweeping up and down Hangyul’s legs. The contact is gentle but the casual ownership of it, combined with the delicious praise, makes him more than a little dizzy. Or maybe that’s just the oxygen deprivation. Either way, he’s feeling some type of way right now, totally helpless, his body and life in the hands of his masters. Just as it should be. 

He can’t speak to show that so he just hums as best as he can, ripping a low moan from deep inside Seungwoo’s chest. His strong fingers curl into hangyul’s hair, using it as handles to drag him away for a break. Hangyul gasps desperately for air, drool leaking down his jaw.

This time, when Seungwoo yanks him back down onto his cock, he doesn’t let up, fucking his hips forward slow and easy. Everything feels too hot, too much, every inch of his skin tight and burning. He’s at the perfect position to grind against the firm table, but he’s not allowed. Self-control is so easy for him at this point, but this is when he’s really tested, nothing in his brain but a low buzz of too much feeling. 

Now he’s getting into the swing of things, breathing through his nose and doing his best to stay still and be a good fuckhole. It’s so wet, his slick lips puffy and dripping spit down Seungwoo’s cock. Pride swells low in his chest, at the knowledge he’s fulfilling his purpose well, drinking up every breathy moan from above. 

“Fuck!” Seungwoo spits, fingers twisting on the back of Hangyul’s head, shoving his hips in all the way forward. He very nearly chokes this time, throat working hard. Seungwoo groans and slides back out, wrapping a hand around himself. Hangyul pants, sticking out his tongue as far as it’ll go. Cum stripes across his pink tongue and puffy lips, dripping down his chin with the mess of spit already there. 

Seungwoo gives his cheek an affectionate little slap and steps away, evidently communicating with seungyoun, because the next moment hangyul is being hauled up by his trapped wrists, yanked backwards into Seungyoun’s lap again. He somehow feels totally limp and tense at the same time, shifting his legs together and groaning at the way it puts pressure on his ignored cock. 

Seungyoun’s stare never fails to make him feel tiny in the best way. He raises a hand and trails a finger over his filthy lips. A wide smile spreads across his face, one of the ones that spells trouble for someone. Right now, it seems like it’ll be him. 

Seungyoun hums, looking pointedly over at Seungwoo before leaning down and licking across Hangyul’s lips, collecting the cum on his tongue before shoving it down inside his mouth. Hangyul tenses up with the sheer amount of want that pounds through him, sucking Seungwoo’s cum off of Seungyoun’s tongue. 

There’s a muffled curse from across the table. Seungyoun looks up and grins. “He’s amazing, isn’t he?” He doesn’t wait for a response, holding Hangyul tighter against his chest. “You’re dismissed, Seungwoo. I’m going to take care of him now.” It’s so casual, but his tone brooks no argument. Hangyul can’t pay attention to Seungwoo’s exit, though, because he knows he’s about to be absolutely wrecked.   


**Author's Note:**

> [Twitter](http://twitter.com/orca_mandaeru)


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